


Save Me a Crumb

by ofsevenseas



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Gen, It's been a while since I've written anything of substance, Kid Fic, epilogue-compliant, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofsevenseas/pseuds/ofsevenseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP drabble for Melo. Prompt: peanut butter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save Me a Crumb

"Don't mind me!" Mr. Draco said from the relative refuge of the sitting room, "I'm just going to sit here, writing down a list of damages which I mean to hand to your wife, and wait for your _demon offspring_ to stop."

Rose, who had been cuddled up to her favourite edition of _Hogwarts, a History_ on a nearby windowsill, felt disappointed that her afternoon of quiet reading was once again interrupted, and sniffed disapprovingly. "Technically only two of them are Uncle Harry's children, and I'm quite sure Scorpius started everything."

As usual, Mr. Draco ignored anything that endangered his logic of the universe, to wit: that Potters are responsible for all the unrest in the world, and strode off, clutching a handful of writing materials.

"Um." Uncle Harry said, and ran outside before Mr. Draco could start waxing poetic about the destructive tendencies of Potter genes.

Deaf to the unearthly screeching and gleeful yelling, or at least fairly impervious to her cousins' usual antics, Rose walked over to the small malachite table, where an elaborate arrangement of garden flowers rested in the dead centre. That was probably the house elves, Rose reflected. Merlin knew what Mrs. Malfoy did with her time, but it was not generally involved in staying at the Manor. She glanced at Mr. Draco, who really was writing with a great deal of enthusiasm on ivory coloured parchment paper.

And royal blue ink that dried gold. Rose sniffed again. Malfoys and their dramatic flairs were a plague sent to tax the most rational of human beings - case in point: it was the whole reason Uncle Harry had been called from a weekend 'off' with Aunt Gin in the first place.

Perhaps she had not been entirely fair in her evaluation of the proceedings: it was not exactly Scorpius' fault that Lily had been boasting about the new brand of muggle candy she had discovered (or more accurately, decided to like after years of indifference) and how it was superiour to any of the house elves' confections. Scorpius had taken umbrage at this slur on his staff's ability to cook and Malfoy hospitality (though a good part had also been inspired by Albus quietly snickering off to the side), and things had degenerated from there.

Possibly Hugo would know why they had resorted to spelling giant squirrels to attack each other in an attempt to win the argument, but she would rather die than encourage her cousins in their immature goings-on.

Mr. Draco stopped writing for a few seconds while a couple of loud bangs echoed throughout the house. That would be Uncle Harry transforming the squirrels back, then. Rose walked downstairs into the utterly demolished kitchen and got out a plate of peanut butter cookies for the inevitable (re)invasion.


End file.
